


Nervous

by callmecaramleh



Series: Zukka Week 2019 [1]
Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Day 6: Storm, Fluff, M/M, Zukka Week
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-25
Updated: 2019-01-25
Packaged: 2019-10-03 09:38:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17281613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/callmecaramleh/pseuds/callmecaramleh
Summary: Zuko’s car breaks down in the middle of a snow storm. Luckily, a kind stranger is there to make sure he doesn’t freeze.





	Nervous

**Author's Note:**

  * For [laney_da](https://archiveofourown.org/users/laney_da/gifts).



Zuko had wanted to find a way out of the family New Years party. He had yearned for an excuse, and maybe wished for it at 11:11 the night before like a hopeless middle schooler, but he hadn’t wanted this. His car had stalled out halfway there, stranding him on the side of the road in the middle of a snow storm. The New Years party was bad, but this was worse.

It hadn’t taken long for the heat to dissipate, leaving Zuko to freeze. His fingernails were starting to look a little blue. He tried tucking them into the pockets of his coat, but he kept getting his phone out to check it again. His Uncle was on his way to pick him up, and they’d deal with the car properly when the blizzard went down. It was at least better than Azula being the one to come get him

He pulled his knees up to his chest, thinking that it’d be warmer if he curled up. Closing his eyes, he let his chin rest against his knees. It’d be at least twenty minutes until Uncle could be there, which left him only with his thoughts and chills.

Zuko knew when he had left that it would be a mistake. The annual family New Years party always made him a little nauseous—a situation that was not helped when he turned 21 and could properly drink at it. It only ever consisted of poorly veiled complaints about what a failure he was. Even Uncle Iroh’s constant encouragements didn’t stop him from realizing the truth in his father’s critiques. With Lu Ten and Azula’s constant successes, he was clearly the runt of the family.

_tap tap tap_

Zuko bolted upright. There was no way that could be Uncle yet. He turned to the window and instead saw the shadow of a man standing out in the snow. Zuko rolled the window down slightly.

“Hey,” the man said, “I saw your hazards on and this storm is pretty rough so I thought I’d just come and check to make sure you were ok.”

“Oh, uh, yeah. I’m fine. My uncle is on his way.”

The man, Zuko realized, was very attractive. He was full of conflicting shades and shapes. Blue eyes against tan skin, round cheeks with a hard square chin and jaw.

“Right. Good,” he replied, “If the heat isn’t working in your car you could come sit in mine? I mean, I know I’m a total stranger and could be a murderer, but I don’t want you freezing to death on my conscious. I’m a firefighter so you can trust me and everything.”

The man reached into the pocket of his blue puffer coat, pulling out first his wallet and then from that an ID card which he held up to the window. Zuko didn’t even know that firefighters had IDs. He thought, of course, that it could be fake, or that government entities should never truly be trusted, but he was too cold to worry about it.

“That sounds great. I appreciate it.”

Zuko rolled up the window and grabbed his keys, stepping out of the car. He trudged the short distance through the snow to the man’s car—a beat up old Honda—and got in the passenger side. He could feel snow melting into his socks, but he didn’t care. The man’s car was warm, and only became warmer as the man started the car back up. Zuko held his hands up against the vents, trying to defrost them.

“I suppose,” the man said, “that you could be the murderer, since it’s not me.”

“Not a murderer,” Zuko replied, “I, uh, work for Phoenix Investments.” He didn’t want to say that his father owned it or that he’d have to take over the company one day.

“Cool, cool. I guess they don’t give you an ID card for that,” the man said smiling—teasing.

“Well they do, to get into the building, I just don’t carry mine around all the time.”

“Riiiight,” the man replied, “I didn’t get your name by the way.”

“Zuko,” he answered, conveniently leaving off his somewhat infamous surname. It wasn’t like his family was celebrities, but his name was certainly recognizable.

“Well it’s good to meet you Zuko. I’m Sokka.” He held out his hand to shake, and Zuko took it. It was almost hot against Zuko’s cold skin. He didn’t want to let go, but he had to. “So where were you headed on this snowy evening?”

“Family New Years party. Even the snow wouldn’t let me get out of it.”

“I hate to break this to you, but it’s February. You guys are a little late.”

“Chinese New Year,” Zuko clarified.

“Ohhhh, with the animals,” Sokka answered, “I think I’m the year of the ox? 97 is ox, right?”

“Yes, that’s right,” Zuko said, “I’m the year of the rat, but my sister jokes that I’m more like the cat who didn’t make it to the party.”

“Well that might end up being true with all this snow.”

“God, I wish,” Zuko replied, “I hate these parties.”

“I feel like you could have just used the snow to get out of it in the first place then.”

“Not in my family. It would have been seen at the ultimate betrayal,” Zuko said, “Plus my mom used to love New Years. The party aspects might stress me out, but the moon cakes always remind me of her.”

Zuko was not used to talking about his mother to total strangers. He honestly wasn’t used to talking about her with anyone. There was just something about Sokka that seemed trustworthy and inherently kind. Zuko wasn’t used to meeting people like that.

“Has it been long since she passed?” Sokka asked, his voice turning more hushed.

“Almost ten years now,” Zuko answered.

“My mom died when I was really little. I can’t remember much about her, but my sister does. She makes sure we do all those traditions my mom used to love.”

Zuko thought about his mother. He had plenty of memories of her—feeding ducks by the pond, being forced to play with Azula, helping her cook—but they all felt incredibly distant, like she was covered in a fog. It was as if the more he wanted to reach her the more she started to fade. Zuko could understand then how it would be easy to forget a loved one without the abundance of memories that he had.

“It’s good that you’re still able to know her through your sister,” Zuko replied, “I mean, I’m sure it’s difficult, but at least she’s not totally gone.

“Yeah,” Sokka replied, the hint of a smile on his face, “My sister is kind of incredible.”

“Mine’s a monster.”

Sokka laughed. It wasn’t a laugh that was particularly beautiful. It was a bit too loud and sounded a bit like Sokka had forgotten how to breathe properly, but it made Zuko feel warm all the same. He couldn’t remember the last time he had actually made someone laugh. His life had quickly deteriorated into hiding away in his office, making sure he couldn’t be seen with his inevitable mistakes. The only people he saw on a regular basis was his Uncle and the intern who brought him coffee in the mornings.

Was he really so lonely that making a stranger laugh seemed like a substantial miracle? He hadn’t realized that his life had been so dreary, not catching the rut of work and reading and sleep until now that he thought back on it. On a daily basis he had just been trying to push through, get past one task and onto the next, and never stopped to see how things were going in the present.

“Oh god wait, I love this song,” Sokka said, suddenly cranking up the radio. It was a man’s voice, belting, and Sokka belted along with it. He didn’t seem to be a very good singer, but he looked like he was having fun singing along. It made Zuko smile.

“Listen, I don’t care what anyone else thinks about Shawn Mendes being basic or anything, I love him,” Sokka said, after finishing the song.

“I hadn’t heard him before. He sounded pretty good.”

“You hadn’t heard _Shawn Mendes_? Have you been living under a rock?”

“More like in my office, but it’s essentially the same thing,” Zuko replied with a shrug, getting a snicker out of Sokka.

“Well listen, you’ve got to look up Shawn Mendes ASAP. He’s an icon. He’s incredible. He’s beautiful. I love everything about him. He can do no wrong.”

“That seems like a lot of pressure on him.”

“Yeah well I don’t say that to his face.”

Zuko laughed at that. He wasn’t sure if Sokka was really attractive or if he just missed human contact. It was amazing to him that Sokka was so easy to talk to after being out of practice for so long.

“Well I’ll make sure to give him a listen.”

“What sort of music do you normally listen to?” Sokka asked, and Zuko suddenly felt embarrassed. His music taste hadn’t changed in years, recycling the same songs over and over again.

“Uh, alternative.”

“Oh I can get down with some Matchbox 20,” Sokka replied.

“Yeah, they’re good.”

“Definitely not as good as my boy Shawn though.”

Zuko laughed. “Probably not.”

There was something inherently companionable about Sokka. Zuko was not an idiot. Friendly, handsome people like Sokka didn’t need more friends. Sokka would probably have an excess of people claiming his time, and he certainly must be popular in the romance department. Zuko could feel the questions itching at the back of his mind, _are you seeing anyone?_ and _we should get coffee sometime_ , but he couldn’t bring himself to ask either. He was just a stranger, and Sokka was just nice.

“Yeah, Shawn Mendes and Graeter’s ice cream is what got me through this awful breakup last month.”

Zuko’s heartbeat sped up a little. He tried not to get too excited, tried not to think that Sokka was telling him about the breakup on purpose, but he couldn’t help but be a little happy at the confirmation.

“Graeter’s is the best. The black raspberry chip? It’s incredible.”

“I’m more of a dark chocolate brownie guy myself, but it’s all so good.”

“I like the flavor of that one, but I can’t eat a lot of it at once. I don’t have much of a sweet tooth.”

“You’re crazy. Sweets are the best. And meat. It probably goes meat, chocolate, potato based foods, and then everything else.”

It seemed like everything Sokka said made Zuko smile or laugh. He wondered if it was possible to fall in love in the short amount of time he had spent with Sokka.

“Potato based foods are pretty good.”

“They’re incredible. One time I went to this restaurant and only ordered the sides with potatoes. I called it the potato platter.”

“I bet that was delicious,” Zuko replied, just as his phone started to ring. It was his Uncle.

“Hello?” Zuko said.

“I’m here, though it seems I’m not the first one to make it to you. Do you want me to drive around a bit to give you more time with your gentleman friend?” Uncle Iroh responded, the implications of what he was saying clear by his tone. Zuko could feel the blush on his neck, and hoped Sokka wouldn’t notice.

“I’ll be right out Uncle,” he replied, hanging up the phone before he could make any more improper comments.

“Your ride is here?” Sokka asked. Zuko was sure that disappointment in Sokka’s voice must be his own imagination.

“Yeah,” Zuko said, but couldn’t bring himself to leave.

“So I guess this is goodbye...”

“I suppose it is...” Zuko answered.

“It was good to meet you, Zuko,” Sokka replied.

“You too, Sokka,” Zuko said. Taking a breath, he reached under his coat and unpinned the broach he was wearing. It had been his mother’s, but it wasn’t particularly sentimental. He had no memories of her wearing it. It was just that he always liked the red flower design on it. It was glossy, detailed, and vibrant. “Here,” he added, holding it out to Sokka, “As a thank you. You’re supposed to wear red on New Year’s, to bring you luck.”

“Thank you,” Sokka said, smiling down at it before finally unzipping his puffer coat to pin it to the shirt he had on underneath. Zuko tried to ignore the fact that it was a little tight and showed off Sokka’s muscles.

“Well, I guess I should—“

“Before you go I’ll give you something lucky too,” Sokka said, quickly pulling a napkin out of the middle compartment, and a pen out of his pocket. He quickly scratched at the napkin, before handing it to Zuko. “Lucky numbers,” he said, grinning.

“Oh. Thank you,” Zuko said, staring down at the 10 digits, trying to keep his smile from looking too ridiculous, “I’ll be sure to remember these.”

They said their goodbyes once again before Zuko finally left. Iroh couldn’t almost hide his laugh at Zuko’s beaming face. Zuko couldn’t be bothered to care as he put Sokka’s number into his phone, not wanting there to be a chance of him losing it.

Perhaps whoever he had wished to had been listening after all.

**Author's Note:**

> Tragically this is my last fic for Zukka Week! I have loved doing this challenge, but my poor thumb (I write most of these on my phone) can’t take anymore. Thanks so much for all your love and support this week. I’ve been having so much fun!


End file.
